Page 70 of Generation Omega: Revealed
So, I state the obvious. “You stood by her when she became something different. You fought with a passion I’ve never witnessed. You love fully. And everything that’s happened here has only confirmed what my instincts told me.”
He’s suspicious now. “Everything that happenedhere—what does that mean?”
I tap my index finger against my temple and then give a little nod toward him.
Ethan gapes at me. “You can hear my thoughts? You’ve been sitting there listening toallmy thoughts?” He blushes and that seems like an odd reaction until I remember that bit about the haggard calendar model swarmed by kittens.
“Yes.” I leave it at that, but I know he won’t.
He’s quiet, back in the corner of the ring, searching for safety. He needs to know the rules of this new life, but he’s going to have to ask. I’m not imposing my will yet, and some truths need to breathe awhile to become solid enough to grasp.
But I can give him something. “Would you like answers to some of your questions?”
He looks conflicted but nods.
“I’ve already explained why I saved you, but you’re free to ask more specific questions whenever you want. I think the main thing you need to understand is why I was in that alley, why I hunt omegas and alphas, but I don’t think you’re ready for that. You’re hurting and exhausted, and you haven’t finished that sandwich, so I’m going to wait to share that. As to whether I will ever be good for the omega, my answer won’t be satisfying because I’m going to fight the power of the omega legacy until my body breaks.”
Ethan grimaces, but he’s not surprised.
“It’s not aboutherin particular, but about this assault on my free will. That said, your inner deliberation about her is annoyingly unhelpful to my restraint.”
“Glad I can help with that.” Ethan shoves an image of the omega at me, using his thoughts as a weapon. He’s everything—all this and he’s already finding a way to use what others would see as a vulnerability to get what he wants.
In full color, I see the omega as a tiny girl scrapping with three boys. Ethan’s thoughts communicate that these boys bullied him on his first day back to school after his father’s funeral. She’s feral in protecting him and doesn’t stop until all three boys are bleeding on the ground. She stands over them—as proud as any lion—and declares that snitches will get more stitches than they already need. Then she threatens to knife them in their sleep if they ever even look at Ethan again. The boys flee and she dries Ethan’s tears with her dirty, ripped sleeve, before taking his hand and walking him home. Fuck.
“You think I had honor in standing by her when bullies came for her.” He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “You have no idea.” Then he winces and breathes through searing pain. “It hurts.”
“Bites that aren’t tended are the equivalent of a rejected bond, and rejected bonds are agonizing for all parties. Let me help you, helpus. You aren’t the only one feeling it.”
That surprises him. “You’re in pain because of me?”
Do I tell him? That I feel like someone punched through my chest and didn’t have the decency to kill me before, during, or after. Only there’s noafter—the punch is ongoing every moment he suffers and I’m not tending him as an alpha should. “Yes.”
“Is it bad?”
“Yes.”
Ethan gives the sandwich a dismissive look, but then catches the intensity in my gaze and finishes it. He downs the rest of the water, and I grab the tray and set it aside.
Stiffly, he lies back on the cot and exhales. “This is going to be weird, isn’t it?”
“Doesn’t feel weird.” I move my chair closer so that I’m beside the bed. “Are you ready?”
“I don’t know, but I could use a break from the pain.”
That’s going to have to be enough for me. I gently begin unwinding the gauze until I see both the burns on the inner part of his palm and the bright red, clearly angry teeth marks on the outer part. He tugs his hand away from me and stares at the perfect imprint of my teeth in his flesh.
“It’s weird.”
I smile—how the fuck did that happen—at the lack of anything resembling self-pity in his outlook. “Let’s just hope it helps.”
I can’t hide the way my hand trembles as I grasp his wrist, instinct seizing control of me. I must do this. I must do it now. This compulsion rivals the force required to rip a truck in half. That’s my life now, two massive pulls with me between them. Him… andher.
I raise his hand to my mouth and surrender to what instinct demands. I lick the wound just once to ensure it helps, though my jaw is tight enough that it may break if I don’t allow myself to continue. Ethan’s response is instant, a sigh that is soul-deep, his entire body at peace.
Even knowing what I know, I still ask, “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” he breathes. “Please, don’t stop. It takes away all the pain.”
